Evasion
by Deandra
Summary: Lothiriel evades probing questions from a persistent adviser. Fluffy little ONESHOT. Part 160 of the Elfwine Chronicles.


_**Part 160 of the Elfwine Chronicles. The Elfwine Chronicles are a series of one-shots built around the family group of Eomer, Lothiriel and Elfwine. The total number will depend on how many ideas I get for new vignettes.**_

_**A/N: I thought those three new Chronicles had gotten it out of my system, and maybe I'd manage to get back to finishing one of the "unfinished tales", but this began niggling at me last night and I had to get it written.**_

**Evasion**

**(Aug, 2 IV)**

The mattress shifted considerably, and Lothiriel slowly came awake, trying to register what had happened. In the dim light, she saw her husband sprawled beside her, face down. It was evident, both by look and smell, that he had set aside any efforts at washing until a later time. A glance at the slightly parted curtains told her it was yet very early morning – or very late night, depending on how one viewed things. She had gone to bed well after midnight, and was sure she had slept several hours since doing so.

"Eomer?" Her hand reached over to stroke his head. "We did not expect to see you. When you had not come by midnight, we assumed you would have camped for the night."

Her hand slipped down to caress his stubbly cheek as he turned his face toward her, to make himself heard without the pillow hampering him. Even his voice was weary as he explained, "We had thought to make it sooner, but were beset with various mishaps that hindered us. A wagon broke down and a horse threw a shoe. By then it was too late to bother trying to set up a camp, so we made repairs and pressed on as quickly as we could."

Her heart went out to him, and she sensed the exhaustion that was quickly claiming him. Leaning over, she pressed a kiss to his temple. "Sleep, my love. I shall guard your door this day, and you will not be disturbed until you choose to rise. I swear it!"

A pleased grin tugged at his mouth, and he mumbled, "My little warrior!" before drifting off to sleep.

Noting he had done naught else than strip down to his leggings, and wore no nightshirt, and since he had fallen on top of the bed covers, effectively pinning them beneath him, she rose and went to fetch a comforter that she spread over him. It was still a few hours until dawn, so she snuggled back into the bed beside him, and despite his slumber, he reached and pulled her close into his embrace. A contented sigh escaped him as he buried his face in her hair and continued to sleep.

Despite her own lack of sleep, Lothiriel woke early and slipped from her husband's grasp to rise. Already her mind was working on how to best approach this day. No doubt Eomer's advisers would soon surface and wish an audience; arguing he was exhausted and needed to rest usually availed little. No, she would need to be at her most creative today to accomplish her purpose. Knowing Eomer, he would not sleep but a few hours more, no matter his tiredness, but she fully intended to ensure that his rising was on his own schedule and not someone else's.

Likely the best approach was to delay her own arrival in the main hall. That would temporarily avert questions and they would initially be somewhat patient. A soft knock at the door signaled the arrival of Miren, and she went to let her in. Miren glanced at the bed and the sleeping form of the king, then smiled understandingly. "Kialmar looked much the same when I left him," she commented.

"Yes, but Kialmar will not be disturbed by anyone seeking an audience. Eomer is not likely to be so fortunate – unless I am able to forestall it."

Miren raised an interested eyebrow and asked with mild amusement, "What would you have me do, my lady?" There was never any doubt in Lothiriel's mind but what her companion would readily fall in with her to aid her efforts.

"I do not wish the bedchamber made up as usual. I shall send for someone when I am ready to have it done – at which time the sheets will need changing." She wrinkled her nose and Miren gave a soft laugh of comprehension at her meaning.

"Shall I have a breakfast brought to you here, then?" Miren inquired, already guessing the answer.

Lothiriel nodded. "I would appreciate that. I have work I can do here for a time. I wish to delay my presence in public." She hesitated a moment and then added, "Perhaps nothing should be said to anyone other than Gamling. He will understand, and cooperate, I am sure."

Miren gave a nod and moved to the door. "I will return momentarily." As the woman exited, sounds were heard from the nursery and Lothiriel turned in that direction.

When she entered, Elfwine was sitting up in his crib, gurgling cheerily as he chewed on a soft toy Miren had made for him. "Good morning, dearest!" she greeted her son, lifting him into her embrace. The chubby arms circled her neck and he caught a handful of her hair in each fist. "My, you are getting so big!" she murmured, her hand rubbing her son's back.

Elfwine had now begun rooting at her shoulder, and it was evident he was ready for his breakfast, so she settled in the large overstuffed chair and offered her breast to the hungry boy. While he nursed, she studied his features. At just over a year of age, his blond locks were growing longer but she had to admit that his facial contours more closely resembled her side of the family than Eomer's. She would not have objected at all if their son had been the spitting image of his father, a most handsome man, but she rather suspected that was not going to be the case. Even his golden hair was apt to darken in time and pattern itself after Dol Amroth. Ah well, perhaps the next child would look more Rohirric to the eye.

Miren had returned with her breakfast tray before Elfwine's hunger was satisfied, so the two sat chatting quietly as Lothiriel finished her nursing. Miren prepared a cup of tea for her so that she could sip it during the feeding process, as well as sneak a few bites of sweet bread.

"Already the king's advisers are turning up in the main hall, seeking an audience," Miren informed her. "Gamling is diverting them as best he can, saying the king is not yet available."

Lothiriel nodded. "I should be able to work here for about an hour before needing to put in appearance. Gamling will be able to stave them off that long." As Elfwine made clear he was done, Miren took him to burp while Lothiriel finished her breakfast.

"When will Daelwyn return?" Miren asked, settling herself on the floor with the baby, and drawing some toys near for his amusement.

"Day after tomorrow, but that will work in well with my plans. The lack of a nurse for Elfwine will give added excuse for my not being so present in the hall today," Lothiriel answered.

"I will watch him while you get some of your work done, if you wish," Miren offered, brushing a fond hand over Elfwine's head. She loved this little mite almost as dearly as did his parents, and hoped that soon she might have one of her own.

"Thank you," Lothiriel told her, rising. "I had best get to work on those letters I want to write, and I have some instructions I want to pass on to Durucwen."

For almost the next hour, Lothiriel worked quietly at the desk in her bedchamber, though she could not resist an occasional glance at her sleeping husband. She always enjoyed his company, more so when he was awake, of course, but his mere presence was comforting to her. Once her letters were written, she thought it best to get them to Gamling as a messenger was due to head south this morning.

Moving to the doorway of the nursery she told Miren, "I suppose I must go and be seen. Wish me luck!" Miren laughed and raised a farewell hand at her.

The main hall had the usual bustle going on. Breakfast was concluded, and the servants were just finishing up the last of clearing everything away until the midday meal. Gamling sat at his desk to the side of the main throne, but rose at the sight of her, a slight twinkle in his eyes. It did not take long for a group of three advisers to converge upon her.

"My lady, have you seen the King?" Lord Bronow inquired, somewhat imperiously.

Lothiriel paused and thought a moment then shook her head regretfully. "No, I do not believe I have seen him lately."

She turned and continued on her way down the length of the hall. An instant later, Bronow was scurrying after her. "But, my lady! Eomer King has returned! His horse is in the stables!" he announced triumphantly.

Lothiriel halted once more and threw him a surprised look. "Is it? Well, that is excellent news, is it not? And now you have the answer to your unasked question, as well. If Eomer is returned, wherever he is at the moment, I am certain he will turn up in the hall at his earliest convenience, and then you may conduct your business with him." She smiled innocently at him and hurried away before he could comment further. She silently handed her packet of letters to Gamling, who was standing nearby, causing him to smother a grin, before continuing on toward the kitchen. She did not look back, realizing full well that Bronow and the others were watching her departure in frustration.

The queen knew better than to make directly for her bedchamber, instead taking a circuitous and less suspicious route to arrive there. Quietly she opened the door and slipped in. Eomer still slept soundly, his soft snoring muffled by the pillow and she smiled at her husband.

She had collected some clean laundry on her brief excursion, and set about putting things away in their proper places, before straightening the room a bit. Once she finished that, she could think of nothing else to keep her here at the moment, and there were matters of the household that needed attending, so she once more ventured forth from her room.

She had not gone far down the hallway when she encountered Lord Bronow again. She raised an elegant, disapproving eyebrow at the man, but he either missed or ignored her censure. "Lord Bronow," she said frostily, "is there a reason you are invading my privacy by entering the private family quarters?"

The man faltered only slightly before saying, "I had thought to see if Eomer King might be in his chambers, my lady."

Folding her arms over her chest, Lothiriel gave the man a stern look. "You may be one of my husband's advisers, sir, but that does not give you the right to impose on my solitude. If Eomer is available to see you, Gamling will make it known to you. Such a meeting will take place in the main hall or my husband's study, _not_ in our chambers. I am sure the guards will be happy to show you back the way you came, and I will thank you not to enter here again without invitation!"

A nearby guard had snapped to attention at her words and stepped in their direction. While he had not felt he could challenge one of the king's advisers before, the queen's words gave him the right to do so now. For an instant, Lothiriel thought Bronow was foolishly going to argue with her, but after a moment he had the good grace to look embarrassed and said, "I beg your pardon, my lady, for my error in judgement. It will not happen again." Turning, he followed the guard back down the hall and did not see Lothiriel scowling after him. Sometimes Eomer's advisers were just _too_ much!

She continued on her errand, and it was some time before she was able to again make for her chambers to check on things there. This time, when she entered the room, it was to find Eomer sitting at breakfast, Elfwine on his lap and sucking a bit of egg off his father's finger. He had thrown on a loose robe to cover himself in Miren's presence, though Lothiriel's companion was not to be seen.

Smiling at her husband she moved over, pressing a kiss to his head and then taking up position behind him to begin massaging his shoulders and neck. She could feel the tightness there, but it began to ease almost immediately under her ministration and he gave a groan of pleasure. "Did you sleep well, beloved?" she asked softly.

He nodded. "Thank you for that, and for this added attention," he acknowledged. "What is the situation out there?"

"Lord Bronow is drooling at your gate, others with him, but I have been successful in keeping him at bay. He asked the most curious question – he wanted to know if I had seen the king. I had to tell him that I had not done so lately." She paused briefly for effect, then asked innocently, "Were we expecting a visit from Elessar, my love? I had not heard such."

He gave a snort of laughter, startling the child in his arms, who looked up questioningly at his father. "I believe, dearest, that he perhaps meant me – the king of Rohan!" He did not for a moment think she did not already know this.

"Indeed? I fear I must have misunderstood, and misled him with my answer!" she said, none too apologetically. "At any rate, he wishes to see you most urgently, though Gamling has given me no reason to believe there is any actual emergency that requires it."

Eomer nodded, giving a sigh. "I have no doubt of that! He is as tenacious as a warg sometimes!" Then, glancing up at her, he grinned, "But I fear he has met his match in you, my little warg slayer! I should dearly have loved to be a fly on the wall and watch you play him. You do it so masterfully!"

Smiling, Lothiriel slipped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. "For you, I would gladly face down such wargs! I will not allow them to harry you into an early grave. I have other plans for you, and I intend to keep you hale and hearty for many years to come! Make no mistake about that!" she whispered, kissing his ear.

Setting Elfwine on the floor with a toy, Eomer reached around and snared his wife by the waist drawing her down to replace his son in his lap. Nuzzling her neck, he murmured, "I leave my fate in your capable hands, beloved! Do with me as you will. I am sure to die a happy man when the time comes!" They became lost in one another a few moments before their son insisted on his share of attention also.

With a sigh, Eomer released her and stood. "I suppose I have had as long a reprieve as I can expect. I will see you tonight, beloved, and then I will further express my appreciation of your efforts this day!" With a roguish grin, he went to wash and dress, and Lothiriel smiled at him before collecting Elfwine and returning him to the nursery.

xx

Eomer entered through the front doors of Meduseld, moving briskly. Not wishing all Lothiriel's efforts to go to waste, he had snuck out through the garden and re-entered his home so as to give the impression he had not been there all along.

"Lord Bronow!" he called loudly, before reaching the hearth midway down the hall. "I understand you have desperate need of me. Unfortunately, I still have many pressing matters this day, so unless your matter is urgent, I must insist you arrange with Gamling to meet with me on the morrow." He could have dealt with it now, and might have done so, had Lothiriel not told him of the man's annoying persistence. Had there truly been an emergency, Gamling would have known of it, and brought it to his attention, therefore he saw no reason to give in to the man's self-important posturing. Let him cool his heels. It would only strengthen the groundwork Lothiriel had laid, and make it clear the king was not at the man's disposal for every whim.

Only half listening as the adviser blustered his apologies, Eomer smiled inwardly. Perhaps he should have Lothiriel teach evasive maneuvers to the troops. Clearly, she was a master of it!

THE END

10/3/07

_**End note: **__** It is best that you read the Elfwine Chronicles in the order they were written.**__** The more of them that I wrote, the more likely I was to make reference to one of the previous ones and something that happened there. If you want to read them in order, go to the top of this page and click on my name (Deandra). That will take you to my profile page. Scroll down and you will find all the stories I have written. The Elfwine Chronicles are in order from bottom to top since ffn shows them in the order they were posted. A few were posted out of number order, but you can read them in posting order or number order since those few won't be affected in the story content.**_


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